


East end boys

by crossstitchcorinthian



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Discrimination, Drinking, Drug Use, England (Country), Flashbacks, Homophobic Language, M/M, Polyamory, Smoking, Swearing, University, Xenophobia, childhood crushes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossstitchcorinthian/pseuds/crossstitchcorinthian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Niall is a skirt chaser, Liam pretends to be oblivious, and Zayn is too busy shoving his own foot down his throat to realize it. Alternately: everybody is in uni, and generally just fucks shit up and has a lovely time doing it.<br/>(Or, if you prefer, I am possibly the world's worst when it comes to summaries.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What have I done to deserve this?

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a Pet Shop Boys song (West end girls), as will all the chapter titles. For no reason, save the fact that I greatly enjoy their music.  
> I wrote Niall's dialogue with his voice in mind. The narration is not done from an omniscient point of view, which is one of the reasons I chose to write it in that manner.

Zayn was, all things considered, having a pretty shitty day.  


The alarm clock, tired of the constant abuse, the endless beatings and general mistreatment it was subjected to, decided to give up the ghost. It had done so quite peacefully, with no noise, in the dead of the night. The day after he’d managed to crack his spare by dropping it off the side of his bed.  


Naturally, he was late to his first class. He might as well not have bothered, really. He was barely through the door when he was being pushed back out of it, dragged backward by the onslaught of people leaving through it.  


“Have a nice lie-in, mate?” Niall clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, smirking as best he could.  


“Dickhead. Why didn’t you wake me?” Zayn followed his roommate out the door, grabbing the scruff of his polo to keep track of him in the crowd.  


“Didn’t see th’ point. Yer a right bastard first thing. Didn’t think ye’d miss much.” He wiggled out of Zayn’s grip, his eyes following the backside of some pretty girl they both barely knew. “Hey. What’d ya reckon?”  


Zayn shook his head, sighing. “No good. She’s already got a girlfriend. And a boyfriend.”  


They followed the bright blonde of the girl’s hair onto the commons. Zayn slipped his bag from his shoulder. “It’s a lab class, Niall. They actually care if you show up or not.”  


He dropped his bag down on an almost dry patch of the green before he slumped down besides it in the least graceful way possible. “So, I miss anything important?”  


Niall nodded, still staring after the girl. “Still think I’d have th’ chance. Luck o’ the Irish, mate. The lassies love me.” He spread out besides Zayn, leaning back slightly on his hands. His eyes wandered the green, searching for something sufficiently sensual to rest upon.  


“What ever helps you sleep at night. So, what did I miss?” Zayn repeated his question. He was used to this by now. As far as he was concern, Niall was a great mate, even if he was easily distracted. Especially if the distraction had a high pitched giggle and a pretty face.  


“Lab partners.” Niall turned his head just enough to smirk at him, his baby blue dancing with laughter. “Yer gonna love who ye’ve set wit’.”  


Zayn rolled his eyes, nudging Niall’s side with a foot. He really wasn’t in the mood for playing guessing games. “Can’t wait. Who is it, then?”  


“Our dear ol’ friend Liam Payne.” Niall rolled onto his stomach, and from there to his back, expecting the retaliation. He was just in time, too. Zayn’s fist dropped where Niall’s chest had lain, pushing into the soft earth with the pressure of his punch.  


“Shut it. You’ve got to be fucking with me.” Zayn pulled his fist from the mud, managing to grab Niall. He wiped the mud off his hand onto Niall’s shirt.  


“Piss off. I’m being honest wid ye. Swear t’ it on m’ ma’s grave. Though she’s still breat’ing.” Niall pushed Zayn hard enough to shove him over, straight into the soft ground.  


“Shit.” Zayn sat up almost as quickly as he went down, brushing the mud and grass from his leather jacket as best he could. “And you’re sure that we can’t sw-“  


“Not a chance, mate.” Niall sat up too, still smirking. “Not a chance. My partner’s fit. Not about t’ switch wid ye.”  


Zayn groaned, flipping Niall two slightly grubby fingers.” You’re a dick. Have I said? What happened to bros before hoes?”  


Niall cackled, his raucous laughter drawing eyes from all across the commons. They didn’t linger. Everybody knew Niall. He was just one of those guys.  


“Aye. That’s what ‘ey said. But ye know what else ‘ey say?” He grabbed his bag, standing up. “Chick before dicks. Ah. That remin’s me.”  
Niall fumbled in his pockets, eventually coming up with a crumbled piece of paper. He handed it to Zayn, straightening up after he’d done so.  


“That’ll be Payne’s number. Ask’d me t’ give it to ye. Now if ye’d excuse me. ‘ve got a partner t’ chat up.”  


Zayn took the paper, flipping Niall off again when he turned his back to him. It wasn’t Niall’s fault, really, but it felt nice to blame somebody. He considered the number for a few short second, a careless pinkie tracing the elegant scrawl.  


He sighed, and pulling his phone from his pocket, typed the number in, hesitating again before he saved it.  


No. It _hadn’t_ been his day. Hadn't been his day at all. And it wasn't even lunch yet. 


	2. Your early stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback, of a fashion. Drunken first kisses, and completely unreasonable pissiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. So. Um. Sorry if you're from Eskrick. I've never actually been there, so, if there aren't any fields appropriate for partying in around there, I'm sorry.

Zayn and Liam were both from the same small parish just outside of York. Eskrick wasn’t particularly big, or particularly special. Nobody expected overly much for a child from Eskrick.

Having one an Eskrick local attend one of the top universities in the nation- even one who was not only the head boy and the sports captain, but the top of his class- was rare enough. Having two was unheard of. That had been part of the reason Zayn had applied. He hadn’t thought he was going to get it, or that Liam would be applying. 

He couldn’t quite remember why he’d applied now, staring down at the screen, thinking of something witty to text to Liam. Zayn hadn’t had the heart to turn down the acceptance, not when his parents were so pleased. In any case, this is where he had wanted to go, and pulling out over such a trivial reason seemed idiotic. Especially when his parents didn’t know he liked men at all. There would have been too much to lose to not go.

After all, this university was large, and he hadn’t thought he’d actually run into Liam. Not that Liam would remember him. Or even know his name. The longest interaction they’d ever had whilst sober was at the commencement ceremony at college.

Liam had been his first kiss. As stupid and cliché as it was, Zayn had wanted his first kiss to mean something. So, naturally, when the chance to get bladdered at a party with the rugby team there, he’d taken it. The fact that he’d fancied Liam since the first day of sixth form, when he’d rushed into the room ten minutes late, a stream of seemingly genuinely apologies streaming from his lips, had nothing to with it. It had been a bit idiotic, really. The party had been held out on slightly over grown field overshadowed by a copse of trees. 

Zayn hadn’t lasted long. Unable to handle the poorly masked scent of sex, buried as it was beneath layers of cologne and hairspray, he’d stumbled his way towards to the woods, slotting himself into a tree to crack open a new pen and scribble poor poetry into an old notebook.

He hadn’t expected Liam to find him. He’d been even more surprised to realize that the other was interesting in what he was doing.

“You alright there, mate?” Liam’s hair was longer then, naturally pressed into gentle waves and half ringlets. Its colours shone coffee and caramel in the backlight of a bonfire somebody had thought to light before they became too drunk to.

“Fine. Yeah. Thanks. And you?” Zayn was glad of the shadow. Difficult as it was to write in the half darkness, it masked his face. People liked to claim that his skin tone made it impossible for him to visibly blush. A statement that was all too regrettably false at this particular moment. As it was, Liam probably thought he was somebody else. 

“Great! Fantastic. Some party, huh?”

Damn him. Zayn could have sworn Liam was doing it on purpose, grinning up at him like that. He momentarily forgot what he was doing, loosening his grip on his pen. It slipped through his fingers, landing at the other’s feet. 

“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to chuck that at you. Yeah. Some party.” And it truly was, if you were into that sort of thing. Under-aged lawlessness had never really been Zayn’s scene, for all people assumed. Get a couple tattoos, pierce an ear, and wear leather, and people will assume you’re some sort of punk. Not that Zayn minded too much. It had got him invited to this party, after all.

“S’all right.” Liam’s word seemed slightly slurred, but his eyes were as bright as ever. “I’ll bring it up to you, shall I?” 

Liam didn’t wait for Zayn’s answer before picking up the pen. Slipping it into his pocket, he used his arms alone to pull himself up to the bough were Zayn perched. Zayn tried not to ogle too much. Whilst his ascension had been more practical than Liam’s, it had also been infinitely less attractive. 

“Hi. Here’s your pen.” He held it out to Zayn, that idiotic grin still plastered all over his face. It rounded out the angles of his cheek, bring attention to his primal canine teeth and his lips. Zayn tried not to lick his own and his eyes traced their shape. He took his pen back when Liam held it out to him, closing his journal and capping the pen.

“Thanks…” He trailed off, trying to play it cool. To act like he didn’t know the other’s name. It was a stupid idea. Everybody knew Liam’s name. Their college wasn’t a particularly big one, and Liam held rank in both academic, athletic, and social circles. You’d have to be completely socially oblivious not to know his name. Zayn mentally cursed himself for being obvious.

“The name’s Liam. It’s nice to meet you, mate. You are?” Liam didn’t seem to notice anything was off, or, as was more likely, was simply too polite to mention so.

“Zayn. Zayn Malik.” _I sit three rows behind you in biology, four seat to the left of you in English, and directly behind you in religious education. Your best friend borrowed a pencil from me for you to use last week in English. I still haven’t got it back yet, but that’s alright, because you’re even more attractive face to face. Oh, that’s right. I forgot to mention. I’ve had it bad for you since I first saw you._

Zayn continued his introduction in his head, stopping at his last name out loud. All the same, he felt his face burn as Liam’s eyes wandered over it, as if the word were scratching their way out into visibility. 

“Zayn? That’s a wicked name. Is it-“ 

Zayn cut him off before he could ask, feeling his face burn for entirely different reasons. He’d got into more than one fight for being too proud of his Pakistani roots.

“Islamic? Yeah. It is. Malik is too. Pakistani.” Zayn’s eyes scanned the field, absorbing each event. Searching for inspiration. Looking for a distraction.

“Islamic? That’s Muslim, right? That’s really, really cool. Loads better than Liam. What does it mean?” Maybe it was just the alcohol in his veins talking, but Zayn thought they were closer together than when Liam had first scaled the tree. He could smell Guinness and Bailey’s on Liam’s breath as he turned to face him again.

“I like Liam. It’s an alright name, really.” He locked eyes with the other, resisting the urge to scramble out of the tree. A fall like that would hurt.

“Which one? Zayn, or Malik? Zayn, the way I spell it, means beautiful. Malik means royalty no matter how you spell it, so it doesn’t really matter.” He didn’t really know why he was telling Liam this. Liam probably didn’t actually care. He was just being polite. Making conversation.

Zayn reconsidered the option of jumping out of the tree to cut his loses. Sure, they weren’t really that high up, and the fall wouldn’t kill him, but he’d have to face Liam sooner or later at school. That would be considerably more awkward than the current conversation. At least they were both slightly drunk at the moment. 

“Beautiful king?” Liam’s eyes were scanning his face again. “It suits you.”

Zayn definitely flushed that time. The other probably didn’t mean anything by it, but all the same. Zayn looked away, glad for the sudden shrieking from a bunch of girls about the bonfire. It gave him something to focus on, to stop himself from freaking out.

Liam seemed to sense something was up. His face fell, and he mumbled an apology. “Sorry if I upset you. It’s a good thing…” He trailed off, his eyes flitting off to watch the light of the fire. 

“I can leave you alone if you want. I’ve probably disrupted you. You were writing, weren’t you?”

“No.” Zayn panicked, reaching out to grab a hold of Liam’s arm. Liam, surprised, tensed up. Some small part of Zayn’s brain wondered at the way his flexed muscles felt. A larger part of it was too busy beating him up for his stupidity. He let go, looking away again. “I mean, you can stay if you want. But yeah. Yeah. I was writing.”

Liam grinned at him with that stupid, carefree smile Zayn was already beginning to loathe. His arm had found its way around Zayn, his hand gently cupped to rest on his shoulder. There was no denying it now. Alcohol or no, Liam was definitely closer than before. 

“I’ll stay. If I can ask, what were you…” 

Liam trailed off, motioning at the notebook Zayn had clasped to his chest with his free hand.

“Yeah. You can.” Zayn felt himself relax into Liam’s touch, letting the other’s warmth soothe him. 

“Poetry.”

The alcohol talking again. A sober Zayn would never admit to writing poetry. He got enough shit in his daily life without handing people that particular piece of ammunition.

“Do you think you could read some of it too me? If you…yeah…” Liam leant into Zayn slightly, his arm flexing as he shifted. He let Zayn’s hair brush against his cheek as he rested his head against the other’s.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ve never read this to anyone before.” _I wrote this about you. I wrote this for you. Please understand._ Once again, the words he couldn’t bear to say out loud still spoke themselves in his head.

“Only if you want to…” Liam’s hand rested on Zayn’s shoulder as he shifted again. As if he was trying to pull Zayn towards him. 

“I want to.” _I want you._ He pretended not to notice the fact that his hands were trembling as he flipped through the moleskin, finding the well-thumbed page he was searching for. 

“It’s a bit stupid really, but…” Another squeeze. Zayn looked up to find Liam smiling at him. He took another deep breath, and tried not to make too much of it as he began to read.

**“Where dark meets the sea, mist red and hearts breathe to the beat of the-“**

He paused, his eyes wandering back up to Liam’s face. He was staring right back, the smile intact. He took another deep breath, realizing with some surprise that they had begun to breath in time.

**“-memory of a tow headed one, like love and lip so pressed to the promise of-“**

Zayn stopped again, sneaking another look. Liam still hadn’t moved. He began again.

**”-me and you. You once told me to forget myself, and I’ll admit it was a fond offer at the time, though I-“**

His words stopped for another reason all together. This time, when he’d turned his head to sneak a look, he’d found that Liam’s lips upon his. It might have been accidental at first. There wasn’t too much space upon the branch. It might have just been the alcohol. 

None of that stopped Zayn from warping his arms around the other’s neck and pulling Liam towards him.

Or Liam, surprisingly gentle for his level of intoxication, from shifting them both so Zayn’s back was against the crook of the bough. He pulled back then, licking his lips slightly. His face was flushed, and when he spoke, he stumbled over his own word. “Oh. Wow. Uh. I’m sorry. I should have-“

Zayn shook his head, pulling Liam towards him by the soft collar of his letterman’s jacket. “You’re not sorry. But that’s okay. I’m not either.”

Zayn had no idea where this sudden burst of confidence had come from, or where his notebook had gone, but at this point, he didn’t really care either. He brought their lips back together, letting his tongue trace the plump curve of Liam’s lower lip. The other whimpered slightly, his jaw sliding open just enough to allow Zayn to continue his exploration of the shade and textures that made up the inside of his mouth.

They stayed that way, entwined, drunk as they were off the alcohol and each other, for quite some time.

“Liam!” The voice was high pitched, soft about the edges but still somehow shrill. They jolted, pulling apart. Zayn’s eyes, bright, framed in contrast with the dark lashes, sought Liam’s. They met for a few short second, then looked away, their confusing slurred with drunken laughter.

“Yeah? I’m up here!” Liam waved in the general direction of the voice, shooting Zayn another smile. His arms were still about the other’s waist, his warmth resting close against him.

“Shots! You brought the salt, right?” A thick mane of hair stumbled into their view as Liam pulled away from Zayn, leaving goose pimples in the places where his warm skin had rested before.

“Yeah! One sec. Just let me get down.” He turned back to Zayn, still smiling slightly.

“Hey. You coming?”

Zayn was leaning back into the grain wood, wishing for once that he were a bit darker. He knew whom that mane belonged to. 

There was absolutely nothing wrong with Danielle. He’d had her in a few of his classes in primary. They’d grown up not far from one another. She was quite stunning really, at least until she’d bleached her hair. Even then, she really was quite pretty. She was a perfectly nice person, if a bit attention seeking at times. She was also Liam’s girlfriend. Not that meant anything to Zayn.

She huffed and tossed her hair back, impatient for Liam to join her. “Li?”

Zayn shook his head, sighing. “No. It’s fine. Go join her. Parties aren’t really my thing. I was just trying something new. Just like you, really.” 

It came out sharper than he’d meant it to, the clip tones and the curt voice cold enough to make Zayn shiver as he finished saying them. Liam recoiled slightly, his face falling.

“Okay. Yeah.”

Zayn pretended to not be affected. Liam was completely smashed. He’d forget about the hurt soon enough. Zayn’s buzz was obviously wearing off. He had started to realize the implications of what had happened. Liam did, after all, have a girlfriend.

“See you around?” Liam wrapped his hand around a slightly smaller bough, slipping off the one they’d sat upon.

“I’d say I’d talk to you again soon, but you probably won’t remember this by the morning. So there’s not much point really.” Zayn had no idea where this bitterness was coming from. He barely knew Liam, really. He was just another a crush. A crush that had lasted for a year, to be sure, but still, the facts remained as they’d been at the beginning of the night. Liam wasn’t his. It had all just been some sort of drunken fun.

Reading his poetry had been a mistake. The other obviously hadn’t understood the meaning of the words that were even now worming their way back into Zayn’s heart. Zayn crossed his arms over the chest, the corner of his notebook pressing into his arms and reminding him exactly where he stood with the other. He’d bared his heart and soul to a drunken fool. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew it. But he didn’t care. 

Liam wrapped his arm around Danielle’s waist as they walked away, not bothering to look back. She did, her eyes trying to focus on Zayn’s face. Trying to identify him. Liam tightened his hold on her when she stumbled over a tree root, stopping her from toppling over.

“Li…who were you talking to? Who was up there with you? What were you doing?” Her voice made Zayn wince. He was being unfair, but he couldn’t help but thinking how a voice like that didn’t deserve a boy like Liam. _Like you do._

“Nobody important, babe. Just one of the local lads. Feeling a bit left out.” Liam’s voice wavered, but he didn’t look back.

And that, as far as Zayn was concerned, had been the end of that. Neither of them had tried to talk to the other again, sober or not. At the end of the term, when they had been placed together as the top of their class, they had acted as strangers.

Liam probably didn’t remember him. 

Zayn hoped he didn’t remember him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poetry was deliberately bad, in my defense. I wrote that too.


	3. Which do you choose, a hard or soft option?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leigh Anne's introduced, and Zayn continues to mope, because apparently, that's what Mr Malik does best.

Zayn had settled with something simple. Something generic. Something that didn’t scream _‘oh god I don’t know whether you remember me but you were actually my first kiss and you probably don’t remember but I still can’t quite forget how attractive you are but that doesn’t really matter because I don’t want you to remember even if you did but some acknowledgement might have been nice if it isn’t too much trouble for you’._

No. He’d settled with something perfectly safe and reasonable before hitting that send button.

**_“Hello. This is your lab partner. Zayn? Niall gave me your number. Sorry I wasn’t in class today. Hopefully, I didn’t miss anything important? Just let me know if I have. I’ll try and make it up.”_ **

It wasn’t likely to publish as a best seller, but as a text message, it would do. Zayn briefly considered staying where he was. He didn’t have another class just yet, and the grass was fairly comfortable. All the same, there was water beginning to seep into his pants. Damn Niall and his aim. He would have picked the soggiest patch to shove Zayn into.

Zayn slipped his phone back in his pocket before standing, grabbing his back up by one strap. He turned, with the intent of heading into the union to grab something warm and caffeinated to cheer him up. He didn’t get very far before realizing he’d walked straight into something strangely solid. Namely, another human being.

”Shit. Sorry. You alright?” The person he’d run into had stumble back a couple of inches, instinctively grabbing onto his jacket to keep herself upright.

”Yeah. You should be sorry.” Leigh Anne let go of Zayn, giving him one of her sassiest looks.

“Where’s your head at, Malik?” She was shaking her own as she said it, coffee coloured corkscrew curls flying everywhere.

”These days? I wonder enough myself.” He grinned at her, pulling his bag over his shoulder. She’d been his lab partner the previous term, and they’d hit it off. It had been thanks to her that he’d managed to pull the marks he’d needed to avoid losing his scholarship, and his place at the university.

“Cheeky as ever, aren’t you?” She wrapped a hand around his arm and begin to leads him towards the solid pavement. Zayn let her, barely wondering where she was taking him. She’d let him know in her own time. “Saw you missed the first class of the term. Out late partying, were ya?” 

She laughed when he winced, his face falling into a rather exasperated expression. Leigh Anne had taken him out drinking once, to set him up with a friend of her’s. He’d ended up in some sort of underground poetry club, completely pissed and disconcertingly pantless. She’d pulled him off stage in the middle way through a particularly dramatic renditions of Goethe’s **The Bride of Corinth**. Needless to say, after that, he’d avoided both liquor, and anything to do with vampires.

Leigh Anne’s grin has shifted into something slightly manic. “Your own fault, mate. I just bought you the booze. Ya didn’t hafta drink it if ya didn’t wanta. Still don’t see why you didn’t go for Perrie. I know I would.”

“Yeah. We all know you go for her.” Zayn rolled his eyes, sighing slightly. They’d been over this before. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Perrie. She was quite attractive, in her own way, and had a lovely, warm, affectionate sort of personality. That had probably been the issue, if he was being honest with himself.

“We’ve been over this, Leigh. She’s a lovely girl. I’m just not cut out for that sort of relationship.”

“What? A fun one?” Leigh Anne huffed at him, rolling her eyes right back. “Please. It’s not like Perrie and I were together then like we are now. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered. No offense, but you’re so not my type. I don’t go for the starving artist bit.”

”And something tells me Tom’s not the sort of person to generally engage in a polyamorous relationship. When you truly love something, or someone, you’ll find a way to keep doing it. Or them.”

Leigh Anne smacked him for that, and to be honest, he thought he’d probably deserved it.

”You make it sound like I’m some sort of nympho. It’s not about that. Whatever people might be saying.” She pulled oh his arm again, making him stop short.

”I know.” Zayn let her steer him onto a bench. They’d wandered out of the commons, onto the path that passed by the river. From where he sat, he could see the richly coloured water that pushed the collage tour boats past.

“Speaking of nymphomaniacs, you might want to keep your eye on Niall. Perrie’s…assets have caught his eye. You know what he can be like…” He trailed off, offering her an apologetic smile.

Leigh Anne plopped down besides him, pulling her feet up so they curled underneath her body. “Not personally, but I’ve heard the war stories. He’ll just have to learn to keep his hands off.”

”What? Not interested in a four way relationship just yet?” Zayn raised his eyebrow up at her, pretending to be surprised. She smacked him again. Sure, his arm might sting for the rest of the day, but it was definitely worth it for the expression on her face.

”Shut it, Malik.” Her face was visibly flushed. Zayn knew she worried about what people thought, for all her careless attitude might try and hide it. Leigh Anne cocked an eyebrow back at him, rolling her eyes again. “Not to be rude to your mate, but from what I’ve heard, whore-an isn’t too far off the mark. Not really the relationship type at all, is he?”

Zayn shook his head slowly, trying not to chuckle at her pursed lipped expression. “Not really the relationship type, no. Still, he’s a brilliant mate, and loyal as a dog, so I put up with the dumb dames shrieking half the night, and his breathe reeking of booze over breakfast.”

“When’s the wedding, then?”

Zayn sighed, rolling his eyes again. The reference to Roethke had obviously gone unnoticed. “Yeah. You’re really funny, Leigh. I haven’t decided yet. I was thinking you could be the best man?”

Undeterred, Leigh Anne waved her hand about erratically before pulling her upper half into a mock bow. “I would be honoured.”

They both sighed yet again, shaking their heads slightly as their eyes followed a half empty river boat until it, and its noisy Korean passengers, were out of sight.

”It’s not like either of us could get married. Not really. Even if we wanted to.”

Leigh Anne smacked him a third time. He decided he definitely hadn’t deserved that one. “Oi! What was that for?”

“You know it’s the truth, Leigh. I don’t make the rules around here. No need to whack me for it.” Zayn rubbed his arm, frowning at her. He’d have a bruise there now, come the morning.

”You were ruining my fun, Malik. You’re always doing that. Maybe you should worry a little less about being right, and a little more about having fun, every once in a while.” And with that, she was gone, off to wherever it was Leigh Anne went. He remained on the bench for a little while longer, staring out into the dark waters with only his increasingly melancholy thoughts for company.

He was so lost in them he almost missed the vibration of his phone. It was probably Liam.

Just another little reminder that life sucked.


End file.
